My family that was visiting left yesterday and now everything is so quiet with my little nephew gone. It's just not right. Without even noticing, I'd gotten used to a soundtrack of little grunts, yelps, coos, cries, shrieks, almost-giggles, and sneezes playing in the background of every minute. Beautiful, beautiful. It feels really quiet now. It's a bit sad.
I am crazy over that baby. All week if that little burrito would start to cry, they would hand him to Auntie LSL and he would glue himself to my body and bury his head in my neck and calm down and sleep.
I know I am one of them now. Nuts over a baby. He's all I want to think about, and I've been looking at his pictures non-stop since the real thing left. I'm going to ask my brother permission to post a picture, even briefly, so you all can tell me that he's the most beautiful baby you've ever seen. He is. His tiny, sly smile will make you believe in life again.
His mom asked, what will his voice sound like? Oh. He will have a voice. A tiny little voice, and then, someday, a grown-up voice. It's hard to believe. And what will his favorite subject in school be? Will he like vegetables? Will he be a reader? Will he have a good singing voice? Will he be a safe driver? Will he be close with his Auntie?
All week while holding him I said a little prayer that went like this: Please be happy. Kind. Compassionate. Thoughtful. Please be understanding. Respectful. Inclusive. Loving.
I've been wondering if I should be a mom. Will I feel satisfied in life if I'm not? Will I feel satisfied in life if I am? Just in case, I'm making up a list of approved sperm donors, and so far it includes one cute guy at work and Anderson Cooper.
In other news . . . oh, who am I kidding. There is no other news. What else matters? Nothing besides his bright eyes, chubby neck rolls, wiggly middle, flailing arms, grippy little toes, folded-up frog legs, tight fists with strands of my hair clenched in them . . .
Pouty lips. Tiny, tender ears. Button nose. Softest skin. Baby bird hair. Worried forehead. Searching, searching, searching eyes.
i know what you mean about the little ones. there is nothing as heart warming to me as spending time with my nephew. he's an absolute delight. of course, in my case, i don't hear my ovaries crying out for a kid of my own. sometimes i feel a little sad about that fact but am grateful i get to spend all the time i want with my little wonder boy.
ReplyDeletei am glad you got that time!
Every time you mention him, you write even more beautifully than before. I love that you think of who he will be, rather than just how cute he is now. You mentioned his worried forehead and searching eyes ... sounds like he has an old soul.
ReplyDeleteMan, he IS cute! He must come from DANG cute parents!
ReplyDelete-Parents of little Tomato
That really is what it's all about, isn't it?
ReplyDeleteAwwww...how cute!
ReplyDeleteI love your prayer...if more parents( or aunties for that matter) started caring about what their children will be this early I think we might just be in a better place now.
ReplyDeleteBaby bird hair? Poor little thing. (I'm KIDDING.....don't hate me......). I can almost feel the squishy little soft cheeks.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful and lovingly written post LSL. I got goosebumps reading your prayer and I like the reflective stuff (favourite subject etc).
ReplyDeleteHe is pretty lucky to have an aunt that thinks about him with such love. All that positive energy (thoughts) can only be a good thing not only for him but you too.
Since I started reading your blog upon your return home, I have noticed a change in your posts (I could be wrong) but there seems to be less angst or anxiety to them.
Maybe you have found your little spot in the world for now.
Namaste, Denys.
a few months back I heard someone ask: do they see your eyes light up when they walk/come into the room?
ReplyDeletei thought back to my own childhood and the moments I can remember when someone received me like that.
it has been my mission ever since, with every child I encounter: may my eyes light up when I see them - and may their souls blossom in response.
i love hearing you talk about your little tomato.
ps: how would you feel about sharing Anderson Cooper? ;)
I have eight of them. Yes, eight! The oldest is now 21. Try not to blink. One minute, they're in diapers and the next minute, they're towering over you, introducing you to the girlfriend. But no matter how old they get, all I see when I look at them is fat cheeks and belly laughs and little arms reaching up to be held.
ReplyDeleteYou need a dog.
ReplyDeleteEven though they smell bad and poop in green, babies make me happy. :)
ReplyDeleteoh sweetie, you're in love! and he sounds absolutely perfect for you. what a little angel.
ReplyDeleteand he would glue himself to my body and bury his head in my neck and calm down and sleep. there's really nothing else like that. it makes me smile when i see my grandkids or my neices and nephews and i think to myself "i can feel you, right here over my heart, where i held you when you were small." and it's true.
with an aunt like you, he will live your prayer. what a lovely prayer, too. and sperm donors? can you fit jon stewart in there?
i am so happy for you. this is a wonderful post.